The Helper

I became sensitive to my surroundings a morsel at a time. The aroma of lavender tickled my nose, the harmony of piano and violin just barely heard. I felt tranquil, serene. I was lying on my back on a plush mattress draped in luxurious silk. I don't think I had ever felt this comfortable. If this was a dream, I wasn't prepared for it to end.

I went to turn over on my side, and my head swam. Closing my eyes even tighter, I lay unmoving, waiting for the whirling to stop. When I felt it was harmless to shift, I tried once more, but drastically slower this time. Only to again find I couldn't move. I cracked open my eyelids and was welcomed by candlelight. Soft flickering shadows danced on the wall. I fully opened my eyes, suddenly very confused.

I was in a small room; it was painted a subdued forest green. It had a wood door straight across from me. Where was I? I tried to sit up to find that my limbs were restrained. While my restraints were solid, they were not painful. I could see the shine on the black leather cuffs and the metal chain that attached me to the bed, but the leather was soft, so it was not chaffing my skin. Someone had taken great care to make sure I would be comfortable.

What was going on? I looked around the room. On the left side, it had a large freestanding tub. There was a half wall, I could only assume it concealed a toilet. There was also a counter with a sink. The counter held linen, soaps, and petite glass bottles. On the right side of the room was a giant wardrobe, a privacy dressing screen, and a vanity with a chair. The entire room screamed class and wealth. What was going on?

"You're awake, good. I'll be with you in a minute. I have a few matters to finish up." A man's voice seemed to come from nowhere. I could feel alarm rising in my chest.

I desperately tried to remember what happened, but all I got were muddled fragments of images. Walking to my car, the rain drizzling on my neck, feeling exhausted from my double shift at work. Wait. I remember sensing someone behind me. Walking faster toward the safety of my vehicle. Wishing I hadn't worked the graveyard shift, or that I hadn't had to park so far from the cafe that day.

Yes. Now I recall. A sturdy hand clamping over my mouth. I'm a tall and large woman, but he had no difficulty lifting me off my feet. His right arm pinned me to his broad chest. I felt the warmth of his breath against my skin. He said in an almost pleading tone, "Please don't fight, I don't want you to hurt yourself." I tried to struggle, but it was ineffective. I felt a sharp prick. Dear God, was he injecting me with something? I tried again to fight, but his muscular body held me firmly in place. "It should only take about a minute." Was that a southern accent I detected? Why was no one else around? What did he want? He was right. After about a minute, I could feel the effects of the drug he gave me. My body relaxed against my will.

That was the last memory I had before waking up. Now it was time to face the present. I used the only sense I had available to me. Shutting my eyes, I listened. No noise. It was quiet, with no traffic, no people in neighboring buildings. Where was I? Away from the city? Okay, focus on the house now. No chatter from people, no hum of the air conditioner. I opened my eyes. The walls looked normal, but that didn't mean they weren't soundproofed on the inside.

How much time had passed since I had heard his voice? 30 seconds? 60 seconds? He said he would come to me in a minute. I closed my eyes and started counting, listening intently. 20 seconds, still no footsteps. After 4 minutes, I started wondering where he was. I was 7 minutes and 12 seconds when the door opened a crack. He was here, but I had heard neither his walking nor him unlocking the door. I was in a soundproof room. Why?

I opened my eyes as I heard him glide into the room. For a big man, he moved like a panther, silently. He closed the door, locked it from the inside with a key, which he put in his pocket. I expected him to wear a mask, but he did not. Was that a bad sign? Did he plan on killing me? He was rather normal looking, not like a kidnapper or killer, but then again, what did they look like? Your next-door neighbor?

He was tall, broad, and strong, with real muscles not just show ones from the gym. But that contradicted his paler complexion like he didn't see the sun much. His raven hair barely brushed over his temple. He had blue eyes that had a genuine look of relief in them.

"I'm glad you're awake. I was starting to worry." Unquestionably, he had a southern drawl. He smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth barely turning up. I swallowed my fright and prayed my voice wouldn't tremble. The last thing I wanted to do was show him I was afraid.

"Where am I? Who are you? What do you want?" I demanded, trying to sound in control of my emotions.

"All good questions and I will answer them, but first I need to check your vitals. I want to make sure you're not having any adverse reactions."

He moved toward me, and I flinched. Noticing, he stopped and put his hands up as if to show he meant no harm.

"I promise I will not hurt you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stethoscope. "May I please look?" He asked.

I weakly nodded my head. He moved smoothly toward me. "I'm sorry if it's cold." he said as he lightly placed the stethoscope on my chest. It was chilly, but I didn't move. "Fast, but nothing to worry about, actually, understandable considering the mental state you're probably experiencing." His thick finger moved to my face. Gently, he lifted my eyelids, looking directly into my eyes. "Pupils look normal."

I expected him to let go, but he didn't. Instead, he tenderly held my face in his palms. He almost had a pained expression. Under normal circumstances, I might have found his stare flattering, but given the situation, I found it deeply unnerving.

I broke the spell of the moment by jerking my head to the side, releasing his grasp on me. He backed up as if to respect my space. "What do you want from me? Why am I here? " I yelled. My small voice achieved anger that surprised even me. At that moment, I could feel myself losing control. The words rushed out, saturated with emotions. I must have reeked of panic and desperation.

He took a few more steps back toward the door, as if suddenly unsure of himself. He turned. Was he leaving? No, I had to know what was going on.

"If you're after money, you picked the wrong person. I'm not rich nor am I connected to anyone who is." That was certainly the truth. I barely had enough money to cover the rent for some months. "I know you're not rich." He said, not turning to look at me.

" If it's sex, you're after... well, just look at me. I'm not beautiful and not thin." His body stiffened when I said that, had I struck a nerve. "That thought never entered my mind. I assure you I will never touch you without your permission." He almost sounded offended.

"If it's not money or sex, then what?" I was on the verge of tears. "Please, I am nobody special." At that, he faced me. It shocked me to see he also was teary-eyed. "That is the exact reason you are here."

With that, he walked towards the door, unlocked it, and left. He left me bewildered. What was going on? What did this strange man truly want from me?